The Travelling Soldier
by Riverdancer17
Summary: There comes a time when he only has the letters


**The Travelling Soldier**

Erwin didn't like the conscientious objectors. He considered them surly and stupid, like most of the other men who worked on his father's farm.

'Should have been shot!' The ploughman always said, when he'd had a whisky or two, and while Erwin didn't necessarily share this view, he didn't like them.

That was until Levi came to the farm. Levi wasn't a 'conchie', but he had been caught trying to enter the country illegally and essentially given the same status. Erwin hadn't given him a second thought, he was a soldier and therefore completely unconcerned with the farm. However, Levi was persistently and unrepentantly dragged into the farmhouse to be told off, usually for fighting or assaulting another worker. Erwin became fascinated with Levi's insolence, even more fascinated at the pure range and quality of swear words he knew, both in German and English.

The last time was in October 1939, the day before Erwin was shipped to the training camps at Aldershot.

Levi was dragged into the farmhouse by the foreman with a bloody nose and a black eye.

Erwin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose 'What is it this time, Mr Rodgers?'

He sat at the table and pretended to listen as Rodgers shouted about some incident involving one of the other workers shooting his mouth off about Hitler's ideas being decent, right thinking ideas. Erwin sighed again.

'Thank you, Mr Rodgers. Will you..?'

The foreman sloped out of the building, shooting a nasty look at Levi as he passed.

Erwin opened his mouth to deliver a reprimand, before looking at the man in front of him. Levi was stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, blood dripping from his nose onto the floor, his head drooped and his hands clasped behind his back.

Instead he found himself asking 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

For the first time since he had come to the farm, Levi lifted his head to look at Erwin. Immediately Erwin was struck by the quicksilver eyes, open in surprise.

'Why aren't you punishing me?' He asked in his light German accent, sounding almost annoyed.

Erwin shrugged. 'I don't feel like punishing anybody tonight. And I would be glad of some company, so would you like a cup of tea?'

Erwin felt those grey eyes narrow suspiciously 'I'd better make it sir.'

Erwin raised his eyebrows 'Why?'

'I am German. You'd probably be congratulated if you put rat poison in it.' Levi replied, moving across the kitchen toward the range cooker.

Erwin chortled.

...

Twenty minutes later, the two men sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, sipping their tea.

'Is there a reason sir?'

Erwin stayed silent for a moment. 'A reason for what, Levi?'

'For you not wishing to reprimand me.' The man replied quietly.

'I am being shipped to the training camps tomorrow, to learn to fight against the Ger-' Erwin fell silent, blushing slightly

'The Nazi's?' Levi asked, filling the gap seamlessly.

'Yes.'

'Good, sir. Bunch of shithead bastards, sir.'

They both fell silent, Erwin pondering this slightly strange response.

'Will you miss it here, sir?'

Erwin gave a sad smile. 'I have nothing to miss, Levi.'

'No lady to write to, sir?'

Erwin threw back his head and laughed. After a moment, Levi joined in.

'So no lady then, sir.'

'No, Levi. Nobody at all to write to, I am a very lonely man.'

Suddenly, Levi seemed to turn shy. 'I... I know how that feels. Sir.' Levi stared at Erwin a moment more, before he seemed to come to a decision. He drained his mug and stood from the table. 'Thank you for the tea, sir.' Erwin watched him walk to the door, suddenly he turned, shoulders set as though preparing to fight 'I wouldn't mind if you wrote to me, sir. But, if you are boring, I shan't write back.'

Levi walked out, leaving Erwin to his laughter.

...

When he received his first letter, one week later, Levi was really very shocked. He had expected Mr Smith to take his words as a joke but here, in his hand, was the proof that he hadn't. There was no one else who would write to him.

Levi stared at the letter in his hand for a little longer, before Rodgers sharply asked him if he wanted the bleeding letter because they were in plenty need of fire lighters if he didn't. Levi quickly stowed the letter in the pocket of his trousers to read after work.

...

_**Mr Levi,**_

_**Do forgive the salutation, when I sat down to write this letter, I realised that I had quite forgotten to ask for a name to call you by when I wrote, so I suppose we shall both have to make do with the only name I have for you.**_

_**I have little to say about the training, only that it is dull and repetitive. You warned me not to be boring and, as I have no wish to lose my only correspondent, I shall endeavour to keep my experiences within the camp out of my letters. I imagine you can form your own picture of army life quite accurately, after staying so long on a farm!**_

_**I write only to remind you of your promise to write to me and to remind myself that I am not completely lonely. Everyone else here is, as I believe you would say, 'an idiot shite-bag'. I apologise for both the tone and length of this letter, but they work us hard, and I find I am in need of company. Normally, this company takes the form of a Junior Officer's whisky ration (half a measure, be still my beating heart!) but tonight, as everyone else opens their own post, I have made the decision that I would like some of my own next time.**_

_**If you deem this letter to be interesting enough, please write to me when you have the chance. If not, could me consider this a 'practise letter' and start again with you? If Rodgers gets nosy about who's writing to you, tell him you are sending weekly reports on the condition of the estate to Mr Smith, particularly the wine cellar, that should scare him off quick enough!**_

_**I hope you and the farm are well**_

_**Erwin Smith (2**__**nd**__** Lt, 104**__**th**__** training fusiliers)**_

Levi laid the letter carefully on the top of his blanket and rolled over, feeling slightly disappointed then quickly berated himself.

What had he been expecting, a love letter?

...

_**Mr Smith,**_

_**I confess that I am seriously considering stopping our correspondence after that letter. What was that, a letter full of you telling me that you're not going to tell me things? Is this how you write to everyone? In which case I'm not surprised that you have nobody else to write to.**_

_**You say that your training is boring? I see that you have never worked as a farm labourer in the month of November, you have no idea just how little there is to do. I am writing this letter at eleven o'clock in the morning while Mr Rodgers shouts at the conscientious objectors to pick the eggs up quicker but also to be gentle with them. Where on earth did you find a character of such superior stupidity? I really am quite impressed.**_

_**It is lucky indeed that you reminded me of my promise to write to you, I was hoping that you had forgotten, but it appears that I have had no such luck. However, I confess that I am also happy to receive a letter. I am not jealous of my fellow labourers, but I did enjoy the jealousy directed toward me when Mr Rodgers handed it to me. You needn't worry about what he thinks, I do not believe he considers my English good enough to be writing to anyone in the country. He probably thinks my dear mother is writing to me.**_

_**I have had to hit one of your farm hands for picking on the conscientious objectors in the village. I don't believe he will report this to anyone, what I caught him doing is not reportable. I'm not apologising, I am simply telling you what you need to know.**_

_**I would tell you the state of the farm but I find that Mr Rodgers is calling me, probably to help him in getting the stick out of his arse.**_

_**Levi**_

That evening, Levi bikes down to the village to send his letter. Before he loses his nerve and crumples the letter up.

...

Over the next three months, they find themselves sinking into an easy routine. Erwin writes to Levi every week, telling him about his life at the camp and his feelings. For the first six weeks, Levi usually replies with a page or more of insults, interwoven with gossip and the account of the latest farmhand he has delivered retribution to.

This format changes on the fifth of February. His mother's birthday. On this day, a farmhand refers to Levi as a Jewish piece of shit. Levi has to be dragged off the man and returns to the fields with blood up his arms. Luckily, it is raining, so he can disguise his angry tears.

When Rodgers eventually takes pity and allows him off work early so that he can scrape the blood from his knuckles, Levi runs up to his lodgings in the stable roof and has written three pages of emotional outburst to Erwin before he can stop himself. Once again, he bikes down to the village with the letter before he can stop himself.

Then he returns to his lodging and lies on his back in bed, wondering why he wants the comfort of a man he hardly knows.

He blows out the candle and dreams of being in Erwin's arms.

…

Erwin returns to the farm in early march, a break of three weeks before he has to leave to join his regiment in France.

Levi betrays no emotion when Mr Rodgers tells all the farmhands this news at breakfast, but as soon as he has been given his task for the day, mucking out the horses, he runs up the stairs to fire off a missive to Erwin berating him for not telling Levi his news. Ever since Levi's letter on his mother's birthday, their correspondence has become much more intimate. Levi would now call Erwin his friend, and Erwin no longer behaves like his employer.

For a week, Levi waits for a reply, but instead, he gets Erwin, walking across the fields with his duffle bag over his shoulders. It just so happens that Levi is working in this particular field, and the moment he sees his blonde haired employer, jumps to his feet and yells to the other farmhand to run and tell Mr Rodgers. Levi himself elects to run across the ploughed field toward the bigger man.

Shyly, Levi stops just short of his employer and attempts to look casual.

'So, you're back then.' He calls.

'No, it's a trick of the light. I'm in Gallipoli being crowned King of Naples.' Comes the slightly sarcastic reply.

Levi turns on his heel and begins to walk away 'If that's your attitude to a poor lowly farmhand, who has never done you …'

Suddenly, Levi feels the wind being knocked out of him as Erwin wraps his arms around his middle and almost lifts him off the ground. 'It's good to see you again.' Levi hears by his ear.

He flounders for a moment before replying 'You won't say that when you find out how many farmhands I've lost you since you went away.'

'Oh yes, Mr Rodgers has kept me abreast of the situation. Fifteen, I'm quite impressed.' By now, Erwin has let Levi drop to the ground and has bent to pick up his duffel bag. They begin to walk toward the farmhouse and if Levi slips his hand into Erwin's as they walk along, neither of them mention it.

…

That night, Erwin eats in the stable kitchen with the farmhands. Subliminally, Levi knows that this is for his benefit, because a soldier at a table full of conscientious objectors is just asking for trouble, but he's grateful anyway. The meal is eaten in almost absolute silence, mostly because Erwin doesn't want to hit anybody and the conscientious objectors can't without seeming really very hypocritical.

When he stands up at the end of the meal, everyone grudgingly stands up with him, along with the customary groaning and grumbling.

Erwin smiles 'Mr Rodgers, I'd like to inspect the stables.'

'Yes, sir.' Mr Rodgers said 'I'll take you –'

'Oh nonsense, Mr Rodgers. You look exhausted! Let one of the farmhands show me 'round.'

Levi immediately throws his hand into the air 'I'll take him, sir!'

Mr Rodgers immediately rounds on him 'You will not, you piece of German-'

'Levi will do fine, thank you, Mr Rodgers.' Erwin said, his voice putting an end to the argument. He motions Levi to follow him and steps out of the farmhouse door.

…

They end up sat in the hay loft in one of the barns, smoking quietly.

'So, you wish to talk about something. What is it?' asks Levi.

Erwin takes a drag on his cigarette, the glow lighting up his face. 'Why did you have to leave Germany, Levi?'

There is silence for a few moments. Levi drops the end of his cigarette onto the stone floor below and accepts a new one from Erwin. 'The NatSo party does not like people like me very much.'

'How so?'

A quiet laugh and a match flares in the darkness. 'A Jewish Homosexual? I never stood a chance.'

More silence. 'You never said you were-'

'Did I need to?' Levi feels Erwin drawing closer.

'You didn't need to but I suppose… I would have liked to know.'

Levi fiddles with the straw under his knees. 'Why?'

'Because I would have done this a long time ago.'

'Wha-' Suddenly, there are hands on his shoulders and soft lips on his. It is unremarkable, Levi thinks, but holds the promise of being much more. They kiss for a few more moments, before Levi lets his head drop onto Erwin's shoulder and settles into his embrace.

'Why?' He asks quietly

'I've been fascinated by you since you came to the farm. I've never met anyone so willing to fight for other people.'

'You're a soldier.'

'I'm a coward. I joined up so I didn't end up like the men sitting around my dining table.' Erwin draws back and looks directly in Levi's face.

'They're not cowards.' Reprimands Levi, sharply. 'Only shitheads call men who don't want to kill cowards.'

They sit in silence a little longer, Erwin not letting Levi out of his arms.

…

For three weeks it continues.

Three weeks of trying to find places and time to be alone.

It is planting time, Levi is in the field or the stables most of the day. He has no idea what Erwin is up to. He makes the mistake of asking Rodgers one day as the farmhands eat their dinner and receives a thump to the side of the head for his trouble. Erwin is back the next day, stroking his fingers over the bruise and apologising for being the cause.

The time goes quickly, too quickly. Before they know it, Erwin is in his uniform and standing at the end of the table in the stable kitchen, saying goodbye to the workers. Levi clenches his hands under the table and digs his nails into his palms as he stands to leave with the rest of the farmhands.

'Mr Levi.' He hears Erwin call behind him 'A word if you wouldn't mind.'

Erwin nods to Rodgers, and Rodgers files out with the rest, throwing a spiteful look over his shoulder as he goes. Levi stands in the middle of the stone floor, looking down at his feet like he has been taught to, until he sees Erwin's smartly polished shoes enter his field of vision.

'For a man who calls me a fuckwit on a regular basis, you can be very shy.' He hears Erwin say conversationally.

'Then what do you want, soldier boy?' Levi asks, raising his eyes to meet Erwin's.

To his surprise, Erwin turns away, sighing. 'I… I have come to recognise, certain… feelings for you and… I don't want you to… doubt them while I'm away so… so…'

'What?' Levi asks, anticipation growing in his stomach.

'I… Will you… Will you…'

'Oh spit it out old man, before I lose my patience!' Levi snaps sharply, his accent growing stronger.

'Will you… stay with me. Tonight.'

There is silence for a moment, the door creaks. They wouldn't have been farmhands if at least one of them hadn't been listening at the door.

'I mean, of course-'

'Yes. Yes I will.'

Erwin stands still in surprise for a few minutes, before holding his hand out for Levi and leading him out of the room.

..

They spend the night in each other's arms, in Erwin's bed because Levi shares the dormitory above the stables with five other men and, as much as his colleagues already know, he doesn't want to give them anymore reason to gossip if he can help it.

In the morning. Levi goes back to his own room before it's light to save himself the bother of sneaking around and trying to pretend that nothing happened. Erwin rolls over in bed but doesn't wake and Levi is slightly disappointed.

When Erwin leaves two hours later, Mr Rodgers makes the farmhands assemble to say goodbye to him. Most of them shake hands with Erwin begrudgingly and grumble among themselves that they've lost a morning in the fields. Levi shakes Erwin's hand second to last and he may have imagined it, but he thinks that Erwin held his hand just a fraction longer than the others'.

Erwin drives away and Levi joins the charge away from the farmyard, partly because he doesn't want to clean the stables again, but mostly because he and Erwin have yet to exchange a word. He's not sure what to think about that.

...

For four years it carries on, the pile of letters under Levi's bed grows, the letters themselves lengthen and become more affectionate. He is now '_**My Dearest Levi**_ ' and as much as he insults Erwin and claims that he's not a woman, a warm shot of something passes through his heart every time he reads the words.

There are so many letters, letters from Africa, Italy, France, Belgium and Greece. Letters stained with mud, letters stained with tears, letters stained with ink and, horribly, letters stained with blood. It seems that every time Levi listens to the wireless and hears of some disaster, some movement of troops, he receives a letter telling him about it first hand. In some ways he is grateful because every slip of paper, no matter how shaky the writing or how stained the pages, means that Erwin is still alive somewhere, still living and breathing and walking around on some godforsaken stretch of turf somewhere Levi's never heard of.

After El Alamein, in December 1942, Levi gets Erwin back for three days, white and shaking. He learns that Erwin and his squad were pinned down in heavy fire for more than three hours, before they were rescued. A squad that started out with thirty men had been reduced to six. Levi buries his head in Erwin's chest, both pushing away memories of white walls soaked in blood and grey faces that, somehow, didn't look human.

Erwin writes to him when his men begin to call him a monster. He has let too many of them go, too many of the men under his command have been sacrificed for the greater good and the rest have begun to mutter. Erwin keeps his face straight on the field and pours his heart out on paper. He tells Levi everything and Levi reads it all and files it away under his bed.

…

There comes a day when the letters just… stop. For a few weeks, Levi is not concerned. They have had longer gaps between letters, but there is an unease this time that he cannot place. In an unnatural show of kindness, Mr Rodgers sends Levi down to collect the post every day, every day he searches through it, waiting for the perfect copperplate spelling of his name and for nearly two months it doesn't come.

Finally, there is no letter, just a telegram on the 8th of June 1944.

Erwin is missing. Lost on the beaches at Normandy.

…

It is 15 August 1945. VJ day.

The work on the farm has not lessened since he started working there, despite the large numbers of POWs and Land Girls that Mr Rodgers has appointed in Erwin's absence.

It's been more than a year now, Levi stole the telegram from the breakfast table and added it to the collection of paper under his bed, now packed in a wooden crate to protect them. He has read them so many times the paper has started to go thin and the ink has faded. Nearly every night, he takes out one of the letters and slips it under his pillow, he doesn't need to read them anymore, he knows them off by heart, but it feels good to have Erwin's handwriting near him if he can't have the man himself.

On VJ day, Levi stays late in the fields. He's so tired, but his sleep has stopped since Erwin went missing, so he's always tired. Tonight, there is any number of an unspecified crop to get in before the sun sets, so Mr Rodgers has decreed that the farmhands eat in shifts. Levi is on the late shift, besides, since the POWs started coming to the farm, he's trying to keep out of their way, because neither the Germans nor the Italians tolerate him and Levi has had enough teeth knocked loose to know it's better to keep out of their way.

He's on his knees picking up the shit that the land girls have dropped, when a shadow falls across him.

'Can I help you?' He asks, without looking up.

'That depends.' Comes a voice that Levi thinks he recognises. He looks up.

The man is wearing ripped and travel stained battledress, his hat is in his left hand because it's the only one the man owns, but his hair shines gold like it always has and his eyes are as blue as the ice Levi broke on the pond last winter. Levi absently thinks that with the sun behind him, Erwin looks like an angel, before he's up and on his feet, throwing himself into Erwin's chest.

'You bastard, you absolute bastard.' He's repeating into the thick wool of Erwin's uniform, while the man tries to stammer out an explanation for where he's been the past year.

It doesn't matter.


End file.
